Now When You Cry
by Valleera Angel
Summary: When a person of great importance to Kurtis Trent 'runs away', he is convinced that the sinister Cabal are involved. Enlisting the help of Lara Croft, he goes in search of answers, and not to metion a whole lot of revenge.
1. Flee

"**Now when you cry, I don't have to be around to wipe your lies".**

Prologue 

Brody brushed her long purple hair down over the right side of her face. With a sigh she lifted the suitcase and pushed her way out through the door, down the steps. There was a taxi waiting. Without a backward glance, she slid onto the backseat. The car drove her away. Not away from her home, she had left "home" four years in the past. Fleeing home wasn't half as painful as leaving that shit-hole; this time, she had no choice.

An hour later, as the darkness fell, a motorbike roared up outside a tall block of dilapidated flats. A tall figure in leathers dismounted and sauntered up to the door and pressed the buzzer for the desired room. No reply. Press again. Still no answer. Casual stance abandoned, more frantic button pressing ensued. Then all fell silent as the grave.

The door was rotten and the man was desperate. With a well-judged barge, the door swung. The stairwell reeked of all manner of undesirable stenches, and heavy footfalls rang out. When he reached his destination the key was in the lock, but on the wrong side of the door. He twisted and removed it, then pushed.

The room was empty of vitality: crypt-like. All that was left in the Spartan flat was the old furniture: a single bed stripped of linen, a fridge, cooker, sink, all rundown, and a battered sofa, with stuffing exposed. The walls were bare; the dreary patterned paper had tears - all in sets of four, where posters were hung only a short time ago.

However, across the other side of the room, through the open door of the bathroom something glistened in the half-light. Cautiously the biker made his way over. He lowered his gaze to the floor, then crouched and with both hands picked up the object for closer examination.

"Ouch!" he gasped, and drew away sharply. It was a single razor blade, and where his hand was a second previously was a line of deep crimson. It took a second to register that the blood was not his own - it was dry. Turning to the sink, he opened the medicine cabinet and replaced the razor to where it belonged. It came as no surprise that it the rest of the cabinet was empty.

But he was about to get a horrible shock. As he closed the mirrored door, something made him freeze. There was something on the wall behind him, something he had been far to wrapped up in his head to notice. Written on the wall above the bath was the sentence:

"**Now when you cry, I don't have to be around to wipe your lies".**

No question as to what was used as ink to write the hate filled words. Sinking down on the spot, Kurtis Trent buried his head in his hands and wept bitterly. As the pink tinged light of dawn slithered in through the small window, he stood and discarded the room key from his pocket. He fled from the building and he too, like the girl with the purple hair, never looked back.

Many miles across the Ocean, a very contented Lara Croft slipped under the thick blanket of bubbles of a pleasingly hot bath…


	2. Monkey Bars

**Now When You Cry, I Don't Have To Be Around To Wipe Your Lies**

Chapter 1

'_It has been a rather traumatic and stressful evening.'_ Lara Croft said to herself as she stood running her bath. The day had started normally enough, and she had awoken that morning feeling a tad excited, if anything.

A month had expired since Lara had returned home from Prague, since she and Kurtis Trent had exchanged their goodbyes at the airport, she leaving for England, he for the States. Life back home had been decidedly uneventful, and so to liven things up a little bit Lara thought that she would re-arrange her gymnasium, (formally ballroom) and spend some cash on new equipment, to add to and replace the old.

One of her purchases, which she would quickly come to regret, was a second set of monkey bars, which weaved to the sides, like a wooden snake. They were installed that very afternoon, high above the floor. Croft was slightly dubious when a spotty, greasy, and frankly stupid looking seventeen-year-old boy turned up on her doorstep to fit them. However, the minute that the kid had left the premises, she scaled the high frame that reached up towards the new bars.

Jumping up with arms outstretched, she grasped the first two rungs firmly in her hands. Swinging to-and-fro, she made steady progress along the ceiling. Alas, about half way across, to Lara's wide-eyed horror, something creaked. With split second timing, she heaved her weight to one side and let go, her fingertips just finding the narrow window ledge to her left. Before she had time to draw a breath of relief, a sickening crash followed by a splintering sound rang out through the great room. Craning her head upwards, she saw lots of little holes in the plaster. Every single bolt had slipped out.

As luck would have it, the racket had brought Bryce, her resident techie, running. Unfortunately he did little to improve her situation. For in fact he found the sight of her dangling there so amusing it took a full five minutes for him to stop pissing himself laughing. It then took a further seven minutes to find and set up a ladder. By this time she had spent close to a quarter of an hour hanging by her arms.

In retrospect, the whole incident was so painful that she couldn't help but wonder if she would be hurting any less if she had just fallen to the sodding ground when the monkey bars had.

* * *

Croft let out a blissful sigh as the soothing warmth of the bath water lapped over her body. She started to feel the acute aching in her arms subside. _'Ahhh.'_ She thought, lowering herself slowly deeper and deeper, before slipping under completely. When she re-emerged there was a loud rapping on the bathroom door.

'What do you want now?' Lara called, cursing under her breath.

'A telephone call for you. Apparently it's very important.' came the voice of Mr. Hilary the butler.

'Well unless it's the police calling to inform me that the little bugger who fitted my bars has been caught and sentenced to death by firing squad, it can't be bloody important enough!' she barked, and then dunked herself under the water again. 'Enter if you must.'

Visibly wincing, she reached out for the phone as Hilary opened the door and approached the bath, and snatched it from him. Dismissing the servant with a wave of her hand, she began to talk:

'This is Lady Croft speaking. Who are you and what do you want?'

'Ah, I see this is a bad time. I'll ring back.'

'Kurtis!' Lara recognised his drawl instantly. She guessed he must have heard her bickering with Hilly, and could detect a slight smirk in his tone. 'No, it's a perfectly convenient time now. So…how are you?'

They proceeded to make small talk for a short while until Lara detected something wrong.

'Not to be rude, but what was the real reason you called?' she asked him, as politely as she could manage.

'I need you to come here, to stay with me for a few days. It is quite urgent. I need your help Lara, and I need it now.'

This took her aback somehow. Trent failed to strike Lara as the type who ever asked for help. He was too strong, too proud, and too tough.

'Explain.'

'I would, but I can't. I don't even know what it is myself, not fully anyway. That is one of the things I need your help with. Please, trust me.'

But Lara still had to know more, she just wasn't in the mood for the secrecy game.

'Can you please at least tell me what or whom it concerns?'

He sounded on the verge of tears as his reply trudged down the line. The blood vanished from her face and her grip tightened involuntarily on the receiver. 'I can be there by morning.' Came her whispered response.


	3. Explanation

**Now When You Cry, I Don't Have To Be Around To Wipe Your Lies**

Chapter 2

The door to the hotel room swung open. Standing in the way was a tall, attractive man of around thirty, with floppy dark hair and blue eyes as piercing as spears.

'Kurtis!'

'Lara!' the pair embraced tightly, feeling the comfort of each other's heat. 'How was your flight?'

'Fine, I slept on the way over. I came straight away. Are you okay?' a stupid question to ask, she knew, but it was only courtesy.

'I'm fucked up. But getting better. I really appreciate this.' he relieved her of her bags and walked with her to her bed.

Lara hardened. 'Kurt, what you old me over the phone, you have to explain further if you want my help and support. I am physically unable to assist if I don't understand what I'm signing up for. I know it's hard, ' she inhaled deeply, 'but you must tell me about Brody.'

He flinched at the name and sank onto the bed, as though some phantom force had drained him of all power. He ran his hands once through his hair, and then turned his face up to look at Lara. Kurtis patted a space on the duvet next to himself, motioning for her to join him. Lara saw a picture of loneliness and heartbreak.

'After I got back here, after Paris and Prague, I couldn't face going home. I just couldn't deal with it. I have a hard time adjusting to life in general. So I rented this room. The first thing I did was ring up Brody, she told me that her boyfriend was missing, and had been since I had left. She was hysterical. Before I went after Eckhardt, she had told me she had dyed her hair and got a nose stud. I wanted to go visit, but it was a major risk, I couldn't be certain whether I was being watched. I had to see her – what if I died? So a few hours before my flight, I rode over to her flat. She was renting this cruddy little place off a total sleaze-ball.'

'And you were fine about that?' Lara had to point out the inconsistency.

'Yeah, she could take care of herself. Toughest girl around. So I went to see her. She wanted to come with me. I had told her that it was just an errand – she was fully aware of my illegal 'jobs' – I never mention the Cabal.'

'She doesn't know about the Lux Veritatis?' Lara was astounded. 'How is that possible?'

'It wasn't easy. I wanted to tell her, but I had to keep her safe. And she's smart. I'm amazed that she didn't find out sooner.' He looked furious. Not just with his enemies, but with himself. 'Now my lies have gotten her into this shit. Now those freaks have got her. They must have been there that night. Or at least Karel was as he seems to be the only one still alive.'

'How do you know they have anything to do with it? How do you know that she didn't just run away to find her boyfriend? You did say she left a note.' She was interested as to why Kurtis was jumping to these conclusions. They seemed borderline ridiculous.

He mumbled something that Lara didn't quite catch. She asked him to repeat himself.

'It was a lyric. Her band. It was…it was…it was in her own blood.'

Lara's mouth formed an 'O' shape. 'Holy shit. Why would she do that?'

'I…She…she cut. I tried to stop her but she wouldn't. She did it a lot. That's how I found out. The scars ran all the way along her arms. The boyfriend who left her was in her band. They wrote the words together.'

'And so you think that she was writing to her boyfriend?'

'No. I'm certain that message was meant for me. She knew I was coming round that day. She was ecstatic. The missing dude, her boyfriend, had just rung her. He was back and he wanted to talk to her. That was the last I heard of her.'

Suddenly something hit Lara. It was like a slash across her face. She looked up sharply and stared at Kurtis. 'I think I know what the hell is going on. You say that you're sure the Nephilim or the Cabal are involved in Brody's disappearance. What if it wasn't a relatively spur of the moment kidnapping like you seem to think it is. What if it wasn't a kidnapping at all? I think she was willing to run and that she left with her boyfriend. I don't think that it was a coincidence that he went missing just before Paris and returned just after.' He appeared to be catching on to her drift as she spoke. 'Kurtis, there is no easy way to tell you this. I think your little sister has been in love with Joachim Karel.'


	4. Phone Call

I haven't updated in ages, but the creative bug has bitten me. I'm a little rusty, so I hope this turns out okay. Oh and in case anybody notices, I 'borrowed' the name Aslan from a book by Natalie Forrest. It just seemed appropriate. xoxo

**Now When You Cry, I Don't Have To Be Around To Wipe Your Lies**

Chapter 3

Brody Trent stood facing the suitcase, which lay on naff wicker chair. Riffling through it she yanked out a pair of leather pants and a cropped khaki shirt. Slipping into her biker boots she then turned. Reclining on he bed under the scraggy white sheets was a grungy looking youth, his face half obscured by a mass of shaggy, long blonde hair. The lovers' eyes met for a moment, then she scowled.

'We're outta food. I'm goin' to go get some.' Brody sat herself down next to him.

'Dude, you look wrecked. How much did you drink last night.'

'Can't remember. So can't have been too much.'

'You ass!' Brody giggled. 'Anyways, don't go anywhere.'

Somewhere under the hair, she could have sworn she heard a laugh.

* * *

The street was bustling. The town was big and Brody loved it. The change from the dive she was used to was awesome. People were everywhere and she couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Most of them were in suits, going about their mundane, trapped lives. Not her. She was free and she knew how freedom tasted. Like heroin it gripped her and refused to relinquish it's hold. She was in love and she was on the run with her band, the Dead Dollies. Adrenaline fuelled passion – now that was living.

The phone in Brody's pocket started to vibrate. She looked down at the caller ID. It was her big brother Kurtis. He had been her hero. But he had hidden deep, dark and terrifying secrets from her. He had turned her world upside down and left her feeling screwed over. '_What a bastard_' she thought to herself. But for reasons unknown she picked it up.

'What do you want?' She demanded, sounding every inch the bitch.

'To know where you are, and that you're safe.' His tone was the exact opposite of hers. Where she had malice, he had love.

'Piss off! You lied to me. Didn't you get the message?' She noticed a strange noise on the line.

'And it terrified me.'

'Well it obviously didn't terrify you enough. I don't want to be found.' Suddenly, the noise she was hearing stirred something in her mind. 'You're tracing me!' Brody cut the call.

* * *

When Trent returned to her rented room, she found Aslan up and dressed and moving around gingerly. Dumping the shopping in the kitchen area, she wiped the tears from her eyes. When she turned around, Aslan had wrapped his hands around her waist and had begun kissing her neck.

'What's wrong babe?' His lips detached themselves for a minute.

'Kurtis. He rang and I answered. He started tracing me. I'm so fucking stupid.'

After a moment's thought, he said:

' Look sweetie, we play the gig at eight. By twelve, we're on the road with Torrie and Ben again. It would take him longer than that to get here. No harm done.'

Brody's eyes remained cold as ice.


End file.
